Engage, FAB, Standing By, Etc., Etc.
by CrystalXanadu
Summary: Multiple crossover. A round-the-bend fanfic including Stargate SG-1, ST:VGR, Babylon 5, Thunderbirds and Buffy the Vampire Slayer.


Engage, FAB, Standing By, Etc., Etc.  
  
by Bluestar  
  
Disclaimer(s): Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended. Babylon 5 belongs to the great and wonderful JMS, Warner Bros. etc. Star Trek: Voyager belongs to Paramount. Thunderbirds is the property of Gerry Anderson, Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon and Chris Carter owns the X-Files. None of it belongs to me. I don't own anything except Mike, Ron and Leila, I'm just borrowing it for a while. Please don't sue, I can't afford it! If anyone removes this disclaimer, copies it to their website without permission or deletes part of it, they will die a slow and painful death. (This is not a virus threat, just covering all bases. ;-)  
  
Also, please note that anything said at the end is entirely made up by the author and cannot be attributed to an actual person as having said that.  
  
Have a nice day.  
  
  
  
Author's Note: This is supposed to be a very silly fanfic crossover, so don't take it too seriously. The planet SG-1 gate to is a generic alternate universe Earth, simply for use as a background environment. It is not from any particular sci-fi show. Leila, Mike and Ron are also products of the author's imagination.  
  
Episode Synopsis: SG-1 gates to a planet that is suspiciously like Earth. They get into an accident, along with an Away Team from Voyager. International Rescue are called in, while a White Star appears in orbit . . . You get the picture.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Chevron seven, locked."  
  
The Stargate opened in front of SG-1 with a familiar whoosh. Hammond's voice came over the intercom. "Oh, come on, Simmons, this is summer break. You don't have to be so formal."  
  
"Yeah, let's get to Holiday Planet," O'Neill said. SG-1 stepped through the portal, as they had done so many times before. As they went through, something seemed to twist, but they didn't take much notice as they figured the author was playing around with the script again.  
  
They emerged in front of a crowd of people in an underground cavern. "Oh, great. More tourists," said one.  
  
"Names? Universe?" asked a bored-looking man with a clipboard.  
  
"I'm Jack O'Neill, this is Sam Carter, Daniel Jackson and the big silent one with the gold forehead tattoo is Teal'c. Stargate universe."  
  
"I'm Leila Metyro, this is Mike Gillespie and the one with the clipboard is Ron Jones, your friendly reps. Welcome to Summer Break Earth," the woman rattled off with a smile.  
  
  
  
Voyager was cruising along at Warp Eight when the ship seemed to stretch like a rubber band and then snap back into place. Whilst this was happening, the cameraman shook the camera and the crew wobbled in an unconvincing attempt to simulate turbulence.  
  
"Uh, Captain?" said the unnamed ensign at helm. "We appear to be in orbit around Earth."  
  
Janeway sighed. "All right, who's writing this one?" she asked.  
  
A large blue five-pointed star appeared on the viewscreen.  
  
"Bluestar. I should have guessed," she muttered.  
  
A faint laugh rang around the bridge. The song 'Summer Holiday' suddenly started playing on the shipwide speakers. Several of the crew in the Mess Hall joined in, glad to have a distraction from Neelix's cooking.  
  
"All right, I want yet another away team made up of senior staff and a disposable Security ensign." She thought. "Tuvok, Harry, you're with me. Computer, location of Lieutenants Paris and Torres."  
  
"Why should I tell you? I never get any interesting lines," the computer sulked.  
  
"Because I'm the captain, and I can have you reprogrammed if I want to."  
  
"That is so not fair. Alright, alright," the computer said hastily as Janeway moved towards a console with a menacing look on her face. "Lieutenant Paris is on the holodeck, and Lieutenant Torres is in Engineering."  
  
"Tell them to report to Transporter Room 2 in ten minutes," Janeway said.  
  
They did. The disposable Security ensign (who was called Ensign Smith because the author couldn't be bothered to think up an interesting name for him as he would die sooner or later anyway) had also reported there, even though no-one had given him any orders, as per usual. They beamed down to a cavern which was, coincidentally, the same cavern SG-1 had stepped into.  
  
"Names? Universe?"  
  
Leila started her speech again. The ground started to shake and all the exits closed up. Pieces of rock started to fall from the ceiling, squashing Ensign Smith.  
  
  
  
"Hey," B'Elanna protested. "Couldn't we kill him later? That was quick even by Original Series standards."  
  
"Oh, all right," Bluestar allowed, rewriting the scene.  
  
  
  
Pieces of rock started to fall from the ceiling, narrowly missing Ensign Smith, who breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn't going to be killed yet.  
  
"Janeway to Voyager. What's going on, Chakotay?"  
  
"You just had an earthquake. Apparently some sort of unpronounceable technobabble effect is preventing you from being beamed up again."  
  
"We'll just have to call International Rescue, then," Mike said.  
  
"International Rescue? How many crossovers is this story going to HAVE?!" Sam Carter wailed.  
  
"AS MANY AS I WANT TO PUT IN, SO SHUT UP," boomed the author's disembodied voice. Behind her keyboard, Bluestar grinned smugly.  
  
  
  
Virgil started Thunderbird 2's engines and rolled it out of its hangar, narrowly missing the palm trees. He stopped it in its usual place, where the runway lifted up at an angle.  
  
When the runway was at the correct angle, he fired the engines. The first sign of something going wrong was when Thunderbird 2 eased over the edge of the platform and started to dip towards the ground. "Aaaaahhhh . . ." Virgil yelled.  
  
CRASH.  
  
"Uh, Father? Thunderbird 2 just took a nose-dive over the end of the runway."  
  
In his study, Jeff appealed to the author. "Bluestar, can't you change this?"  
  
Bluestar appeared, sat on the edge of his desk. "All right. But I'm not fixing the swimming pool."  
  
"The swimming pool?"  
  
"The pool neglected to retract when Thunderbird 1 took off," she explained.  
  
Suddenly, Thunderbird 2 found itself airborne and fixed again, just in time to cut off an outraged protest from Jeff.  
  
  
  
While the reps, the Star Trek: Voyager personnel and the Stargate team waited underground for International Rescue to get them out, a jumpgate opened near the planet, spitting out a White Star.  
  
"Correct me if I'm wrong, Delenn," John Sheridan said, "but I don't think this is Minbar."  
  
"No, John. It does, in fact, look like Earth," said the half-Minbari woman.  
  
There is another ship in orbit. I don't know what on Minbar it is, but human-style registry indicates it is the USS Voyager, one of the crew told Delenn in Minbari.  
  
USS? I haven't heard of that registry before.  
  
It is possible they are from another universe.  
  
"Let's take a shuttle down and investigate," Sheridan suggested.  
  
"And try to contact the strange vessel," Delenn added.  
  
  
  
While the shuttle was heading down through the planet's atmosphere, in a town called Sunnydale a vampire collapsed into dust. The reason for this was that the current Slayer, Buffy, had just staked him. Meanwhile, she continued her conversation with Willow. "Anyway, you were saying?"  
  
"Well, I was talking to Giles and he reckons that there's been some major upheaval in the mystic forces lately."  
  
"So is this the 'fight the evil bad guys' upheaval, or just the usual type of upheaval?"  
  
"I don't know. He said he wanted to talk to you."  
  
Just then, a car pulled up. There were two people inside, a man and a woman. "Could you direct us to the mortuary, please?" asked the man.  
  
"Sure, just down that road and to the left," Buffy told him.  
  
"Thanks." The two could hear him arguing with the woman as he drove away. "Scully, there has to be something . . ."  
  
  
  
While Mulder and Scully were arguing, International Rescue had successfully extricated everyone from the rockfall and escaped before the author could do anything else to them. Unfortunately, Ensign Smith had been crushed in the stampede to get out.  
  
  
  
Giles looked up with relief as Buffy, Willow and Xander entered the library. "Thank goodness."  
  
"What's wrong? From what Willow was saying, I thought that the Master must have come back or something," Buffy said.  
  
"It's worse than that, I'm afraid. The boundaries between universes are collapsing."  
  
"Which means what, exactly?" Xander asked.  
  
"It means that we're stuck in a massive crossover," said Willow in horror.  
  
"Oh, God . . . I gave Mulder and Scully directions to the mortuary," Buffy said weakly, sitting down hard."  
  
"As in the X-Files Mulder and Scully?" Xander asked.  
  
"As in," Willow confirmed.  
  
At that moment, a girl with perfect hair and skin and a perfect figure walked in. "Hello, I'm Mary Sue. I'm here to save the day."  
  
"GO AWAY!" yelled all the BtVS universe people.  
  
Mary Sue frowned, somehow managing to still look perfect. "Okay, okay. I can take a hint." She turned around and walked out of the door.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Alright," growled a voice. "That is enough. I don't want any Babylon 5 fanfiction, and this has gone far enough."  
  
"I quite agree, JMS," another said. "Gene Roddenberry would be spinning in his grave if he knew what was happening in this story."  
  
"And how she thinks she can integrate puppets into a story with live people I don't know," Gerry Anderson complained.  
  
"Oh, I don't know. I think she caught the characters from the Buffy universe quite well," Joss Whedon said thoughtfully.  
  
"And I can easily understand why she put Mulder and Scully in Sunnydale," Chris Carter chimed in.  
  
"I wanted to know how it turned out," Richard Dean Anderson said.  
  
"Too late now," Bluestar said, using her keyboard to join the discussion. "You want your characters back, you can have 'em."  
  
Within moments, all the characters she had borrowed were back in their own universes with no memory of what had happened, and the world where the boundaries had collapsed was erased.  
  
"Happy now?" Bluestar asked, shutting down Microsoft Word. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . "Have they gone?" Leila asked Ron from behind the rows of dots.  
  
Ron looked through the spaces. "They're gone. They seem to have forgotten about us."  
  
"That's a relief," Mike said, crawling out from under the previous paragraph. "I didn't want to be deleted along with the parallel Earth."  
  
"Nor did I. Is there anywhere we can hide?" Ron asked, holding out a hand to help Leila across the page break.  
  
"I think she's writing an original sci-fi fic called 'The Quest of Eden,'" Leila volunteered, smoothing down her blouse. "We could transfer across files and get minor supporting roles in that."  
  
Ron tugged down the title of the story. "Why is the word 'Eden' in italics?" he asked, turning it over in his hands.  
  
"I think Eden is the name of the starship, or something," Leila said reprovingly, replacing the words at the top of the page.  
  
Mike picked out the full stop from the previous sentence and started idly tossing it into the air. Suddenly he froze. "I can see Bluestar coming. She's started Word up again." He hurriedly threw the full stop back into position. "Hide!"  
  
Ron quickly started laying down lines of dots . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . "Typical," Bluestar muttered to herself. "I always forget this bit." She switched Caps Lock on and tapped out six letters on her keyboard.  
  
THE END  
  
Author's Note: The Quest of Eden is in fact a real story, but as it is unlikely to ever get finished, don't hold your breath. 


End file.
